Cherie
by hoppnhorn
Summary: All she wanted was a bottle of booze...but he had a different plan. Rated M for Sex, mild Violence, and Language. Billy/OC
1. Chapter 1

**At the request of the lovely Cherie, I have written this short. I promised I wouldn't publish again until I finished it...but I'm kinda sorta breaking that promise. You see...I'm not finished... because I'm gonna make this a two shot. Why? Cuz I like cliffhangers..and I need more time to make the second half...fun. heh. ;] at this point, I'm out of steam and I just need a little time to regroup before I attempt the rest. BUT you've been very patient my dear, so I owe you Billy smut! Enjoy Cherie, and of course everyone else. :]**

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><p>She stepped in the front door and collapsed on the couch, letting out a loud moan of accomplishment. Her shift at work had moved at a snail's pace, and she was finally free to relax and bring her brain to a screeching stop. Cherie closed her eyes as she sat up, cracking her fingers with another small moan. Working as a secretary wasn't at all what she wanted to do with her life, but moving to the United States was a process and she needed the money. Besides, answering a phone and typing up an occasional memo wasn't hard labor, it was just irritating.<p>

Her mind shifted to the bottle of tequila on her counter. It was the perfect solution to the frantic Friday she'd had. Let loose with a drink, put her feet up and watch whatever happened to reside in the DVD player. With a small grin, she kicked off her pumps and pattered into the kitchen.

The apartment wasn't four-star quality, but it wasn't bad for the rent. It wasn't too cramped and all the appliances worked. That was pretty good for this neighborhood. Stretching on her toes, she swept a hand over the counter, reaching for the bottle pressed to the wall. When her hand came back empty, she frowned, leaning in for further inspection. The bottle was gone.

"What the—" She scanned the dark kitchen. Then she remembered. Two nights ago she'd mixed herself a large glass of tequila with pineapple juice, throwing the bottle loudly into the garbage. "Fuck." Cherie muttered to herself. The last thing she wanted to do is go out again. She didn't drive, what with the roads being all backwards from home in Australia, and she really didn't feel like walking.

Throwing open the fridge, she tried to remedy the problem with some other distraction. But her shelves were pathetic, holding only a few bottles of water and abandoned groceries. With a sigh, she stood barefoot in front of the cold box. Finally, with a frustrated groan, she slammed the fridge and stomped into her room to change.

Tired or not, she was going to the liquor store.

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><p>The cashier was the only other person in the place when she barged through the door. It was almost closing time and she figured everyone else was out for the night, partying away with their limitless booze. Her mood wasn't great as she hurried down an isle, scanning for her brand. If she moved fast, the trip would only take up a little under ten minutes. The shop wasn't far from her apartment, but it wasn't in the best neighborhood.<p>

Deciding on a decently priced, quality bottle of tequila, she was halfway to the counter when the ding of the front door turned her head. What she saw froze her in place, meters from the counter.

Three masked men swarmed into the liquor store, each armed with various vicious looking weapons. Cherie swallowed hard at the guns, but didn't bother crying out as they approached. They were after the money; she just needed to wait and it would be over.

"DON'T FUCKIN' MOVE!" One shouted, swinging his gun around as he led the way inside.

"EMPTY IT!" Another bellowed, gun aimed directly in the manager's face as he sidestepped his companion. The manager nodded and scrambled around behind the counter, unlocking the drawer to pop out the tray of cash. As soon as the money was in view, the first man ran around the counter, throwing the manager to the floor. Pinning him with a foot, the masked man took rough handfuls of the cash, shoving it into a canvas bag.

The third robber checked the isles and ended up standing beside Cherie; she didn't try to look at him. Just looking a criminal in the eye could set them off. She'd seen the news; she knew what happened in these situations. But she was shocked by her own lack of fear. These men were all willing and able to kill her in a heartbeat, yet she was standing calmly, her free hand splayed open and raised to her jaw while the other gripped the bottle of tequila. Dropping it hadn't even occurred to her, but she envisioned the women in movies, shrieking loudly at the sight of armed men and releasing the tequila to shatter on the floor. Cherie hid a smirk at the image in her head. That's how she should be acting, but here she was, more concerned with holding onto her purchase than the guns surrounding her. So much for a ten-minute trip.

"What's so funny?" A voice purred into her ear. Shivers erupted down her spine and she finally felt the reality of the situation. Without meeting his eyes, she turned her head towards the third robber who stood beside her, gun aimed near her hip.

"I didn't laugh." She couldn't believe she'd answered until the response had tumbled from her lips. By then, the two others were watching, paused by the counter as the third spoke to her. He was silent for a moment, then his head moved and his voice boomed in her ear.

"Take 'im into the back and have 'im clean out the safe." The manager was hauled from the floor and one of the masked men shoved his gun into the trembling man's back. "Kill the lights and lock the doors first." It seemed the man at her side was calling the shots, and she was cursing herself for mouthing off to him. Cherie watched as the manager did as instructed, all with a gun in his spine.

When the lights died, they were standing in the dim, red light that emitted from the MILLER sign in the window. The manager was yanked to the back by the two men and she took a deep breath, her nerves finally starting to catch up. This robbery was taking much longer than expected.

"You're not grinnin' anymore. Something wrong, sweetheart?" His voice had shifted behind her slightly, yet closer than before. She took another breath and shook her head.

"I just wanna buy my booze and go home." A dark laugh filled her ears and her heart raced. As dangerous as her situation was, his voice was thick like a growl, raising the hair on her arms in a strange form of excitement.

"Listen ta you, mate. Such a brave girl." He was purring at her, mocking her accent with that delicious bass. A little hitch of anger rose in her stomach and she lowered her hands, relaxing in a form of defiance.

"Original." She hissed softly, glaring ahead into the dark. Suddenly her back was pressed to something and it heated her skin through her t-shirt. He'd stepped flush against her back, his chin teasing her temple. When he spoke again, a tickle broke out over her ear.

"What'd ya say?" Her heart was drumming to a frantic beat, filling her cheeks with a hot blush.

"I said you're original." As she whispered the words, cold metal slid along her left arm and she froze. His gun. It was resting on her wrist, casually hanging at her side. The air escaping her lungs refused to budge and she waited, fear gripping her through and through.

"Normally, people are afraid when I rob them." His lips played along her lobe and Cherie was shocked at the shiver it brought from her body. Fear and fantasy mingling in a sick yet fabulous combination.

"Are you robbing me?" His laugh rumbled through his chest and vibrated against her shoulder blades. And boy did it feel good. She nearly moaned at the response between her thighs. He hadn't laid a hand on her, but her body was begging that he do so. It was all so wrong. She was terrified, but at the same time, she was excited.

"Do ya have somethin' I want?" His words were dripping with seduction, purred from his lips into her ear while a hand suddenly appeared on her waist. Her breathing hitched and she gasped audibly, closing her eyes as her body throbbed. He exhaled into her neck as his hand moved over her jeans, and into the front pocket. Cherie couldn't hide the rushed breath that hissed from her nose and he hummed, teasing her neck with the sensation of his lips.

"What do you want?" She stuttered in little gasps, frozen with anticipation of his next move. His fingers played along her upper thigh from inside the pocket before they disappeared, sliding along her hip towards her butt.

"Depends on you, baby." He shoved the hand into her back pocket and gripped her ass through the material. Cherie trembled with pleasure, her eyes flying open with a small gasp.

"I don't have anything." It wasn't a complete lie. The only things she had in her possession were a set of keys and a debit card. Neither was valuable to an experienced criminal, but she knew that wasn't what he was talking about. Not anymore. He laughed again, the heat of his breath ghosting over her throat.

"I disagree." Just as he growled the words, his hand traversed the denim from her pocket to her fly, a finger tracing the seam between her legs. She moved with instinct, her head tilting back as she melted into his chest. He knew what to do and she was helplessly unable to resist. "I think you're hidin' somethin'." Cherie panted quietly while he ran his finger lower, the heat growing as he progressed. "Do I have ta search ya?" The finger became a palm, placed flat over the apex of her thighs. Her mouth fell open in a surprised gasp and he purred in her ear. "There it is."

When he moved again, she gave up trying to hide her reactions. She let an unfiltered whimper of lust from her lips, her eyes closing as he rubbed her throbbing ache.

"Do that again." He said with a pant, pressing his hand harder into her jeans. Cherie didn't have to try, it happened all the same. He was expertly petting her, making her hips widen with impulse. "That's what I want." His voice drifted lower and she moaned when his lips moved over her neck. While he continued his strokes down south, his mouth worked her pulse point until she felt her body shaking. In a moment of weakness, she released the bottle in her hand.

He chuckled as it smashed on the floor, but her eyes flew open in shock.

"Easy, baby." He cooed. "Don't want an audience do we?" Cherie's free hand found his leather-clad arm and she clung to the thick material as he worked her up through her jeans.

"No." She whispered. The tickle of his facial hair moved over her jaw and he hummed a deep purr.

"Still afraid of me?" He asked, using his tongue to trace a line from her jaw to her ear. As she moaned breathlessly from his mouth, his hand disappeared and made quick work of her fly.

"Yeah." She pressed into his chest, her body on fire with anticipation by his progress. His laugh was deep and throaty as she tugged on his sleeve.

"I don't think ya are." Without warning, he bit her neck and she yelped, her second hand flying up to grab his other sleeve, his gun hand. He froze for a moment, but her moans eased him gradually, his mouth returning to her throat.

When his hand slid under her jeans, her head shot up off his shoulder, looking down as he slipped into her underwear.

"Ya gonna watch?" He purred, fingertips teasing as they drifted down her hip and lower belly. Cherie bit a lip, unable to manage words as she wormed under his touch. "Ya want me ta touch you?" She nodded emphatically, rocking her hips.

"Say it for me." He rumbled, teasing endlessly with two fingers just above her scalding arousal.

"Yes." Her voice was shaky and whined from her lungs.

"You want me ta make ya feel good?" His questions made her legs quake; this guy knew what he was doing.

"Yes." The longer he tormented her, the whinier her voice became. It was a sound she'd never heard from her own lips, but she didn't care. All she could think about was his hand, and the long fingers circling her pulsing entrance.

"I can't hear you." When she opened her mouth to repeat herself, he flicked her button and she let out a strangled cry, bucking her hips and tugging on his sleeve.

"Shit. Yes yes, fuck yes." He laughed.

"Turn your head, baby." She did as instructed and his mouth was there, his tantalizing tongue happily accepted into her open lips. His kiss was as skilled as his touch and she shuddered with delight. Though her eyes were closed, she didn't care to open them. Then she'd be faced with the fact that she was letting a complete stranger, a robber of all people, put a hand down her pants and kiss her.

His finger thrust inside her slit and she moaned into his mouth, losing all train of thought. No more worrying or contemplation. As he started to pump the digit in and out of her, his thumb pressed into her swollen nub, rubbing in tiny circles. Cherie was writhing in his arms, unable to comprehend any kind of graceful movement with so much stimulation. All she could do was grind into his hand, greedily pulling on his sleeve. He had gotten her so wet it was driving her crazy, feeling him slip in and out of her body. Before long, one finger became two and she let out a cry, his large fingers stretching her entrance as the muscles tensed. She was close and he'd only just started pressing deeper in her walls.

"Yo, we're done back here." The intrusion made her freeze and his head ripped away.

"Load some shit from the back in the car." He ordered with an angry growl. In the dark, she couldn't see the other two men, but she could hear them, scuffling away to the back of the store.

"Time's up, sweetheart." He purred and she felt disappointment slice through her chest.

"No." The response was involuntary, her mind intoxicated by his touch. Another of his signature chuckles purred through his torso and he pressed her to his body, stroking deep and rough with his fingers.

"Don't worry, I'll make ya cum first." She whimpered and whined, following his accelerated pace with bucks of her hips. His thumb rubbed ruthlessly on her clit, pulling louder and louder gasps from her lips. Clinging to his sleeves, she rode his fingers, thrashing senselessly as he panted into her neck and thrust faster and faster.

Blinded by pleasure, she suddenly shivered and came, gasping in rhythm with the waves of bliss rocketing through her body. He growled at her high-pitched whines and worked the climax until she feared her legs would collapse beneath her. When she finally stilled, his hand vanished and she swayed in place.

"Wow." She whispered. His chuckle sounded distant and she turned in the dark, startled when she found herself alone.

"Til next time, Cherie."

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><p>The fucker had picked her pocket. After all the police questioning and reciting the quick story she'd made up, Cherie only noticed her missing wallet when she went to slip out of her jeans for the night. Alone in her apartment, she frantically tore apart her purse and bedroom, hoping that she was mistaken and had left it at home. But it was nowhere to be found and she collapsed on her bed, angry with herself and frustrated with the inconvenience. It was already two in the morning and cancelling her card wouldn't be possible until normal business hours. So, with an angry grunt, she flopped back on her bed and let her exhausted body drift to sleep.<p>

She didn't know how long she'd been dozing when a loud knock erupted from her front door. At first, Cherie figured it was a part of a dream and ignored the loud banging. But when it didn't let up, she roused slowly, groaning as she wandered to the living room.

"What?" She called through the front door, blinking groggily as she stood on her toes to peek through the peephole. Standing in the hall was a tall man, his shoulders squared and his face expressionless as he held a wallet up to the peephole. "Shit!" She exclaimed, throwing open the door and smiling with a relived expression.

"Oh my god, I thought I—" She stopped midsentence when she saw his face. He was gorgeous and grinning at her like she'd forgotten to put on a shirt. Setting the wallet in her hand, he didn't say a word, watching her gradually blush under his gaze.

The longer she stared at him, the better he looked. Even in the horrible lighting of her building's halls, he was stunning. His shaved head accented his striking blue eyes and sharply defined nose. He blinked and long lashes batted at her, his lips twitching with a smirk. Dark blond hair lined his top lip, and small beard grew over his chin.

It didn't occur to her how he'd gotten her wallet until he moved closer to the doorway.

"Long time no see, Cherie." His voice seized her body and she froze, her expression shifting from embarrassment to shock.

"Oh shit…" She whispered, backing up as he closed in on her. With a tilt of his head, he cocked an eyebrow in a sinful smile.

"Did ya think I was jokin' about next time?"

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><p><strong>Bear with me on mistakes. I'm not kidding about the being out of steam thing. LOL. Love to my faithfuls and of course Cherie!<br>OHHHH...and more to come...heh. **


	2. Chapter 2

"**You wanna send me a reward for findin' that wallet of yours?"  
>That line inspires all kinds of horrible ideas…and now I finally get to use them. Tad more graphic this time around…just a word of warning. Of course, I hope you enjoy Cherie! This is for you darling. =) BIG love to SSPI for the review, and love to my faithfuls. Enjoy!<strong>

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><p>"Don't get any closer." Her voice sounded feeble as she was backed into her own apartment. The dark, dangerous stranger just chuckled, passing through the doorway and closing the door quietly behind him.<p>

"That's not the tune ya sang earlier, sweetheart." Cherie swallowed and tried to fight away the imagery. What had she been thinking? Only hours prior, she'd allowed a complete stranger to put his hand down her pants. As she dwelled on the thought, her eyes went to his large hands. He followed her gaze and wiggled his fingers at his sides, his grin spreading over his pouty lips.

"I was scared." She blurted out, trying to avoid his knowing glances. His head shook slowly as he stepped a little further towards her.

"If I remember correctly, you were purrin' like a kitten when I had my fingers inside ya." Cherie trembled at the words, realizing with acute shock that she was delighting in his crass recollection. "Got ya wet before I even touched ya." She closed her eyes for a moment, her face blazing.

"Please leave." He might be outrageously good looking, but he was a criminal, in her home. A man capable of violence. She had no idea what he could do to her and she was genuinely frightened.

"Say it like ya mean it." He purred, moving closer in silent strides. His expression wasn't angry, or even predatory. It was almost teasing.

"Leave." She repeated, her voice wheezing from her throat. Her pulse was so loud it clogged her ears. When he shook his head and repeated himself, she almost couldn't hear him.

"Come on, Cherie. Tell me what ya want." Her chest ached.

"I want you to leave." With a smirk, he shook his head.

"Strike three. You're out." Tripping over her own feet, she tried to step back as he advanced further. "My turn. Wanna know what I want?" Cherie's hands fumbled for anything to hold onto, to shield herself with, but her fingers met a cold surface. He'd cornered her to a bare, solid wall.

"No." She whispered, shaking her head. He smirked again.

"Want another try? Cuz that was weak." Swallowing, she pressed her back to the wall as he moved in.

"No?" He placed his palms on either side of her head, bending his elbows to lean in close. Then, with a breathy laugh, he shook his head.

"That was even worse." With one of his hands, he played with a loose piece of her hair, running a big finger over the fine strands. "I wanna hear ya cum for me again." He purred, looking from her eyes to her mouth. "And when ya do, I'm gonna be deep inside ya." A whine caught in her throat and her body responded against her will. She knew how talented he'd been with only his hands; what he could do with more made her burn with anticipation. His smile returned and he brushed his nose over her cheek, trailing his hot mouth to her ear.

"Would ya like that, Cherie?" She shivered and his breath beat against her bare collarbone. "Do ya want me ta fuck ya?" Her mind was a scribbled mess. On one side, her logic was reeling and screaming, pounding on her skull in fury. Every single reasonable person on earth would be scared of the large man whispering his intentions into her ear. But her body was reacting all on its own. Her panties were on their way to joining the ruined pair she'd tossed in the garbage earlier that evening. Pictures flooded her mind. She wanted his hands on her sensitive mound again, teasing her slickened flesh and swollen nub. But then she thought about his cock. Her body tingled insatiably when she pictured the engorged shaft, pumping in and out of her small opening.

He watched her as she panted in silence, cheeks blushing a dark scarlet with each passing beat of her heart. She could feel his eyes, flicking over her lips as his mouth lingered inches away.

"If ya don't say no soon, I'm gonna take that as a yes." He growled. "Cuz I can't wait around, sweetheart. I've been hard as a rock since I felt ya all over my hand." Her knees buckled a little and she slipped slightly on the wall, weak from his overpowering sexuality. He wasn't apologetic for his animalistic need. She had aroused him with her pleasure at his touch; now, he was back for more. "Already had ta jerk off thinkin' about it."

"Jesus." She finally gasped, overwhelmed at last. He purred a laugh into her ear.

"Say the magic word, Cherie. Do ya want me?" When he pulled back to look in her eyes, she took one glance at his bright baby blues and was lost. With a sudden lurch, she crushed her lips to his, clumsily grasping at his jacket. His chest thundered with a groan and he wasted no time returning the kiss, using both his hands to cradle her head and pull her in.

Moments after he'd invaded her home, he invaded her mouth with his tongue, tasting her roughly with every plunge. She was breathless, gasping for air when he would break away only to attack again, biting at her lips until they were red. His technique was incredible. Her stomach felt like it was ready to burst and she let out a whine when his hands grasped her thighs and lifted her from the floor. In a swift movement, he pressed his hips between her legs and pinned her, rocking his hot, denim-clad erection into her thin, cotton shorts.

"Yes." She relinquished the word involuntarily, the delicious friction making her squirm in his arms. His lips latched to her throat and he sucked without restraint, groaning repeatedly as his crotch ground against hers.

"Louder." He grunted, speeding his rhythm until her head was swimming. Cherie dug her nails into the tough leather on his back, her toes curling as he brought her to orgasm through her shorts.

"Oh...my…god." She whimpered and sucked on her bottom lip, tensing as she unraveled on the wall. It was pure excitement, building her up and shattering her in that moment. As the high faded, she took a deep breath. He smelled like smoke, a bit of cologne, and man. No description: just man. A man who was ready to devour her, and she really wanted him to.

"Bedroom." She whined the word into his ear, clawing at the jacket on his back. It was a hindrance, blocking her from the body beneath. The time for resistance was long past; acceptance and enthusiasm had taken its place. He didn't even ask for directions, seizing her by her ass and growling as he carried her. His massive palm gripped the back of her head and he consumed her mouth, panting aggressively while they felt their way down the hall. It took her a moment to realize his struggle. She felt the torture of arousal, it was hard not to, but she'd climaxed once already. He hadn't. His breathing was erratic and his hands were getting rougher, grabbing and groping her legs. In her head, she could imagine him giving up and just spreading her on the floor. This man could take her in a heartbeat; he could ravage her without mercy, yet his sturdy stride took them to the end of the hall. Without a pause, he lifted a leg and kicked open the door into the adjacent wall with a bang.

He dropped her and she let out a shocked yelp, falling onto her mattress. All of his seductive touches and smooth talk were a memory as he ripped his jacket and t-shirt over his head. He wanted her and he'd gotten permission, so he wasn't wasting time. When his hands went to his fly, Cherie swallowed and followed his lead, stripping out of her shorts and panties. She was on fire, lying across her bed as he dropped his pants to his knees.

"Come 'ere." He purred, looking unabashedly between her legs. It made her face burn, the look in his eye. Primitive and sexual. Scooting a little closer on the bedspread, her heart was throbbing in her throat when he slipped his boxers down his thighs. The sound she made was unintelligible; it was a hungry, guttery cry.

His hand closed around his girth, stroking slowly as she watched. He was absolutely huge. After she contemplated the pleasure offered by his size, she felt a twinge of anxiety also. There was no way he would be gentle. The primal need in his eye made her stomach turn, but not in fear. She was foolishly unafraid of him. It was all too good to be afraid.

He leant over the bed and slipped his tongue into her mouth, flexing his arms as he held himself up over her body. The black tattoos on his neck continued all over his torso, wrapped around his arms and shoulders, drifting low to the top of his abs. She kept her eyes open as he kissed her, running her hands over his chest in absolute awe. How was it he could be so gorgeous? Before she could ponder the question much longer, he released her mouth and slid his hands under her bottom, lifting her hips from the bed.

Somehow, in the midst of her study, he'd expertly rolled on a condom and she gasped as he rubbed the length of his hot cock along her wetness. He growled through his teeth, nibbling her throat as he tested her with agonizing strokes. Cherie held her breath until she couldn't stand it, whining the air from her chest.

"I wanna hear ya, Cherie." He grunted. "All of it." She dropped her head back and closed her eyes, focusing on the feel of him. So close to what she craved, but not good enough. Then he moved and she sunk her fingernails into his shoulders.

"Oh GOD!" He'd barely begun entering her and she was aflame. Her voice rang in her own ears, but she didn't let up, whining to match the outburst. After he thrust inside her, he grunted and paused, filling her so completely she couldn't move. She was panting, arching up into his chest. When he finally retreated, her whine became a sigh and her ankles flew to his hips, heels pressing into his ass.

The rhythm was as ruthless as she expected. He snarled with each jolting penetration and bit at her collarbone, licking and panting into her skin. His dick was like nothing she'd felt before. When he was inside her, pleasure pooled deep in her center, throbbing and growing. And when he would pull out, she would rock to meet the next thrust. He never disappointed. Each thrust was intoxicating and dominating, taking every inch she offered. As he quickened, his hips clapped to her thighs and she moaned at the sound, relishing the filthy feeling it evoked.

This wasn't poetic sex; it was raw and frenzied, animalistic yet better than any she'd ever had. There was no emotion here. It was greedy ecstasy.

They'd been moaning and beating the bed into the wall for several minutes when Cherie felt her body tightening and pulsing. Arching hard, she dug her shoulders into the bed.

"Oh fuck…" She couldn't breathe and he roared, picking up the pace to send her over the edge with a strangled scream.

"So good." He rumbled into her ear as her orgasm gripped him in a vice. "Goddamn tight." His hands grabbed her thighs and he bent her legs back. "Cum for me again." Cherie smiled and dropped her head back, exhausted. It wasn't a matter of whether she wanted to, could she even stand another orgasm? Everything was screaming with sensitivity and her body was shaking.

"Yeah." She moaned the word anyway, gripping his sides as he hovered on top of her. He looked up at her face and slowed, pulling out of her body with a groan. With a clenched jaw, he entered her at a torturous pace, ending each thrust with a hard flex of his ass. All the while, his lips never left hers. Once or twice, he would pant and growl from deep in his throat, but never break the kiss. It was her climbing orgasm that forced her from his mouth, crying out in little whimpers as her body coiled for a third time.

"Don't." He growled, smacking a thigh as he grew rougher. "Let me hear." She tossed her head back, mewing.

"More." His spine curled and delivered faster, long thrusts. The warmth in her body collected and burned and she dropped her jaw, silent until the first wave pulsed from her body. Consumed, Cherie shouted into a searing climax, clawing at his back. While her orgasm clamped around him, he sped and came, groaning mightily into her neck before collapsing on her chest.

Instead of awkwardly laying underneath a stranger, she completely passed out. It wasn't a conscious choice, but fatigue took her so quickly she couldn't refuse. With a sweaty, panting man on top of her, Cherie let sleep win.

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><p>Her legs felt like jello when she woke the following morning, and everything between her legs throbbed. But it made her smile. She'd been thoroughly laid for the first time in her life. She was naked, sore, and satisfied. Exactly as she should be.<p>

And when she did finally wake up, he was nowhere to be seen.

His clothes were gone and the front door was locked. It was as if he'd never been there, and that didn't bother her; in fact it made the situation comfortable. She didn't need to confront the reality of her sinful romp. It was like a fantastic dream. The only thing he'd left behind was a bottle of tequila.

A few nights later, she discovered the pen marks on the dark label. Standing in the kitchen's light, she smiled when she read the words aloud.

"For next time, Cherie."

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><p><strong>So…I get to the end of this and I'm like, hold on…Billy never told her his name. We can't end it that wayyyyy. So…this might turn into a three shot. 'Might' being the key word. I don't want to ruin this by forcing a third chapter, but I'm leaving it open ended for it. Anyway, hope you enjoyed. Love you all! =)<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Here's a last installation for you Cherie. I wanted to THANK YOU again for an AMAZING one shot. :) I'm a very very lucky girl. Anywho, this ties up the story. Hope you like darling! :D**

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><p><em>~SIX MONTHS LATER~<em>

The day didn't look promising. Cherie checked her phone for the sixth time, a yawn forcing open her mouth. It was only 7:50am. She had been at work for all of twenty minutes and she already wanted to crawl under her booth and scream.

"Look alive, Cherie." Her manager mumbled, wandering past as he put together the final preparations for opening. Smiling weakly, she nodded politely and waited until he passed to cross her eyes. Ever since she'd quit her secretary job, she'd worked various other positions. But this one had to be the worst. A bank teller not only worked with money, but angry customers and asshole managers.

"Look smart, Jerry." She muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes.

When the doors finally opened, she took a last look at her phone and settled in for a long shift. There weren't many people at first, but by 8:10 they had a small line. She and two other tellers worked quickly to widdle down the demand, smiling as they did. Cherie sometimes rationalized that she was practicing her acting skills every minute of everyday. She was pretty damn convincing. No one could tell she was silently cursing their existence.

The morning had just fallen into rhythm when the glass double doors opened quickly and three men rushed in the entrance. Cherie noticed them immediately and froze, her hands hanging in mid-air over her keyboard. It was their masks gave them away as their speed put them out against the still crowd.

"EVERYBODY GET DOWN! ON THE FLOOR!" The customers responded first, screaming and falling to the floor like sacks of flour. Cherie, however, couldn't bring herself to move. Her heart was pounding away in her chest, her eyes darting around the room at the three guns. Shotguns. One of the masked men bound the door closed, and the other two swooped in on the counter, weapons raised.

"GET DOWN NOW!" The order was repeated and her knees buckled. Kneeling, and then lying down, Cherie could hear her own breathing against the tile floor. It drowned out the other sounds as black boots appeared near her head. They were jumping the counter.

"Up." One of them grunted, poking Jerry in the back with his gun. "Get up." The balding man did as he was told, trembling as he pushed himself from the floor. Cherie watched, helpless, as the two men stood only feet from her face.

"You too." Another growled, leaning down to grab a handful of her shirt. As he hauled her from the floor, Cherie whimpered, closing her eyes.

"Please don't hurt me." She pleaded, her hands shaking as she held them at her sides. Their faces were expressionless behind their ski masks. Then, suddenly, a gun was shoved into her face and Cherie let out a short scream. Her captor didn't seem to notice. He turned his head to Jerry.

"Open the vault or I blow her head off." Jerry's eyes went wide and he nodded, fumbling forward while the second robber shoved him to the vault. "No second chances." Her assailant added, pumping the gauge on his gun to prove a point. She shuddered and tears ran down her face, dropping to her green blouse. It was three days before St. Patrick's Day. Boston was supposed to be happy this time of year.

"HURRY UP!" Jerry jumped as he was screamed at, his hand shaking on the dial. Cherie blubbered, terrified he would screw up the combination. He was too afraid. He couldn't even get it right under good circumstances. If her life was in Jerry's sweaty hands, she was as good as dead. But, miraculously, the little man gasped in surprise, turning the vault wheel with ease.

"There." He said softly, perspiration beading on his forehead. "I did it." He'd been forgotten by then, the robber at his side rushing into the open vault. Cherie began to breathe a sigh of relief when she was roughly pulled around to face her captor.

"Go in there and pick out the dye packs." He growled. She nodded furiously and obeyed, entering behind the first masked man.

"Yo, hurry it up." The doorman shouted from the front of the bank, weaving through the maze of customers on the floor.

"YA HEARD 'IM." Cherie jumped at the yelled instructions and she quickly went through stacks of cash, removing the dye packs. Regulation called for one in each stack of a thousand dollars, but she knew better. They sometimes put in two. When she was sure the cash was clear of tracers or other markers, she nodded and gestured to the man inside the vault.

"It's clean." Then he went to work, scooping it into a black canvas gym bag. As he did, she was tugged out of the vault by the second robber and thrown to the floor.

"Better hope it is, sweetheart." He growled, pulling her hair to bring her face up to his. "Or I'll come pay ya a little visit." She whimpered and he let her go, pacing slightly behind the counter.

"Ya done?" Impatience started to make him agitated with his own men and he swung his gun around wildly, pointing it at Jerry's knees until the man cried. Finally, when his partner had filled the bag, he appeared and they hopped the counter once more, all three heading to the exit.

"Any of ya talks, we'll find ya."

Then they were gone.

* * *

><p>"<em>Miss, can you give us a description of your attackers? Where they tall, short, fat, thin…"<em>

"_I don't know anything, okay? All I know is I couldn't breathe. They held a gun to my face, and I couldn't breathe…"_

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><p>Cherie felt numb as she entered her apartment. She'd spent hours downtown at the police station, telling her story over and over to the police. They'd taken her fingerprints, asked her questions, and badgered her senseless until she'd broken down crying behind a table. Finally, they'd let her go.<p>

$200K

That's how much they'd gotten away with. She'd heard Jerry repeating the number to an officer with a panicked look on his face, like his priceless job was in jeopardy. No one was blaming the employees; they'd been helpless to stop the robbery, and had the robbers had gotten away. With two hundred grand.

She stripped as she walked into her bedroom, letting her stupid office attire fall to the floor without a thought in her head. The day had fried her completely and she felt like zombie, merely going through the motions. When she flopped on her bed, dressed in her panties and bra, she debated staying there for a week. Drifting into a light doze, she let the morning fall into the back of her mind.

"Hey." Cherie sat up in a bolt and clutched her chest, her heart racing furiously. Realizing whom the intruder was, a grin slowly spreading across her lips. He was standing in the frame of her bedroom door, his arms crossed in front of his broad chest.

"I didn't hear you come in." She muttered, lying back down.

"How's my little actress?" He purred, his boots moving towards the bed.

"She's wondering why a certain someone decided pulling her hair was a good idea." A deep, delicious laugh rumbled in his throat and suddenly he was on top of her, pressing his warm body into her bare skin. As he brushed his big hands over her face, his mouth teased her lips, grazing the surface.

"Just sellin' the show, baby." She pinched his nose and frowned when he swiped at her hand.

"Billy, that fuckin' hurt." Cherie grumbled. "I was crying already, you didn't need to go and rip my hair out of my scalp." He wriggled his hips into hers and she felt her lower body respond with electric warmth.

"My bad, sweetheart. It won't happen again." She rolled her eyes and hooked her legs around his waist, pretending to lose interest when he brushed his lips over her collarbone.

"That's right it won't. That was a one time thing." Billy looked up into her face, raising an eyebrow.

"Does that mean I gotta find another inside woman?" She snorted and launched her head from the bed, snagging his mouth in a hard, demanding kiss. He hungrily plunged his tongue between her lips, groaning as a bulge formed in his jeans. When she pulled away, her expression was stern.

"You don't need another woman, Billy Darley. You just need another insider. No other women. I'm your woman." He laughed and ripped his shirt over his head, grinning down at her cocky expression.

"Mine?" He purred. She nodded and tugged him back down by his neck, eagerly flicking her tongue over his.

"All yours."

"My little actress?" Giggling, she lifted her legs and pushing her heels against the waist of his jeans.

"Take off your pants, Billy." His voice purred like a motor against her lips.

"In a minute, sweetheart. I gotta surprise for ya first." She whined a little and locked him in place with her legs, unwilling to let him leave.

"Surprises later. Sex now." Billy closed his eyes and let out a large laugh, bracing her head in both of his hands.

"Dammit, Cherie. One second." He pushed on the mattress, lifting his bare torso from hers. As he moved, the muscles in his arms and chest flexed, revealing the gorgeous meat of her man. Hers. She grinned as he lifted away, prying her legs loose from his back. Billy had come back for her over and over until she'd expected him every night, crawling into her bed to claim her. Her mysterious stranger had become her entire world.

And today she'd risked everything for him.

"I brought ya a present." He growled, a grin growing on his lips. "Wanna see?"

"All I want is you to come back to this bed." She mewed, rubbing her legs together.

"Oh darlin', I will. But I wanna see ya wearin' this when I do." Cherie sat up, watching as he dug into his back pocket. "Picked it this afternoon." He had a proud smile on his face, almost smug.

"I'm afraid." She said, grinning while she raised an eyebrow. "Terrified actually."

"Trust me." He purred. His hand reappeared, a little black cloth in his palm. Cherie's smile faded and she stared, eyes fixed and widening.

"Billy…" Stepping closer, he slowly opened the piece of felt, revealing a simple, steel chain. Her eyebrows lifted. Pulling it up with one finger, Billy dangled the chain in front of her eyes.

"Like it?" Her head slowly tilted.

"It's a key?" Billy snorted and put the chain over her head, letting the key dangle between her breasts.

"That key opens my front door." He purred, unzipping his fly. "To my apartment." She played with it, smiling.

"And you want me to wear it?" His jeans hit the floor, but Cherie was still holding the key, looking up into Billy's eyes.

"I want ya to use it." He said quickly, stretching out to catch her mouth in his. It took a moment for her to catch her breath, for her head to wrap around what he'd just done. In a simple, swift act, Billy Darley had given himself to her.

"You bad, bad man." She whispered, running her nails over the soft skin of his back. "My bad, bad man." His grunts showed his approval and she giggled, locking her legs around his waist. "You're a crook and a villain, Billy Darley." Hot air fanned across her chest as he ripped the bra from her skin. "My villain."

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><p><strong>Short and sweet. :)<strong>


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